


You're the beat playing in my heart

by phanjessmagoria



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, M/M, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-29
Updated: 2016-02-29
Packaged: 2018-05-24 01:46:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6137071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phanjessmagoria/pseuds/phanjessmagoria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I smell good,” Michael said, leaning closer to Luke, who snickered in disagreement and leaned back—then nearly fell off the bed. Michael grabbed his wrist, laughing; he pulled Luke into him for a kiss, and Luke obliged...for a moment, before pulling away just enough to speak.</p><p>"You should take a shower,” he said, voice low.</p><p>“Only if you come with me,” Michael replied. Luke's face was too close for Michael to see, but he could feel Luke's lips curl into a smile against his own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're the beat playing in my heart

Michael was half-asleep when he felt the bed dip beside him, Luke's weight angling the mattress down on one side. He shifted himself onto his back, hair mussed and flat from resting against the pillow, and looked up at Luke, who was smiling down at him in the dimness of the room, the only light from the TV screen. They had hooked up Michael's laptop to the set, watching old episodes of Pokémon before they both went to bed.

“Hey,” Luke said, moving one hand through Michael's hair, the strands clinging to his fingers a little.

“Hey,” Michael answered, mumbling, still not quite awake.

“Can I lay with you?” Luke asked, and Michael huffed.

“I don't know why it took you so long,” Michael said, miffed; normally, after a gig, Luke was all over him.

“You kinda smell,” Luke explained himself. That woke Michael up; he narrowed his eyes at Luke.

“I don't smell,” he said, pushing himself up to sit beside Luke, who was smirking at him.

“You smell,” Luke insisted. “You didn't change after the show.”

“Ok, well, you smell worse,” Michael said, knowing it was stupid to say but feeling just childish enough not to care.

“You must be smelling yourself,” Luke said. He gestured to himself; _he_ had changed and was now donning a white sleeveless t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants.

“I smell good,” Michael said, leaning closer to Luke, who snickered in disagreement and leaned back—then nearly fell off the bed. Michael grabbed his wrist, laughing; he pulled Luke into him for a kiss, and Luke obliged...for a moment, before pulling away just enough to speak.

“You should take a shower,” he said, voice low.

“Only if you come with me,” Michael replied. Luke's face was too close for Michael to see, but he could feel Luke's lips curl into a smile against his own.

They clambered off the bed together, stripping clothes off and leaving them in their wake as they made their way to the bathroom. They tried to enter the room at the same time and nearly got stuck in the doorway, Luke's wide shoulders taking up more room than Michael was willing to give him. After some slight repositioning, Michael squeezed past Luke into the bathroom and flicked the light on. They'd already made a mess of it—the toilet seat was up, the plastic wrap from a bar of soap was on the floor beside the garbage pail, and the countertop by the sink was wet from whoever had washed their hands last.

“I can smell you from here,” Luke commented, still standing by the door.

“Keep talking and I won't shower for the rest of tour,” Michael said as he tugged the shower curtain back and inspected the faucet. It was always different in nearly every hotel they stayed in, but after using pretty much every different kind out there, they were pretty easy to navigate. Michael turned the handle upward; the spray shot out of the showerhead right away, and he wiggled the dial on the front of the handle to somewhere in the middle, which was hopefully between glacial and volcanic, temperature-wise.

He tested it with his hand, just as he felt Luke's hands on his hips. Apparently he didn't smell terrible enough for Luke to keep his distance—Luke's lips were on him, kissing softly, his nose brushing the soft hair above the nape of his neck. Michael leaned back into Luke for a moment, until he felt Luke's hands and body pushing into him, ushering him forward into the shower.

Michael stepped into the tub, pleasantly surprised at his prowess at picking shower temperatures. Luke followed behind him, pulling the curtain closed so the bathroom wouldn't end up even more of a mess while they were in there. Michael turned to Luke right away, the warm water rushing over both of them, but Luke held him away at a short distance, one hand on his shoulder.

“What?” Michael asked, green eyes looking even sharper than usual in the bright lights of the bathroom.

“Wash first,” Luke ordered him, looking stern, before his lips curled up on one side, indicating that wasn't all he wanted to do.

“Oh my god, _fine_ ,” Michael whined, but turned back away from Luke, letting the water saturate his hair. He switched places with Luke so he could do the same, then picked up the small bottle of complimentary shampoo. He opened it and squeezed some onto his palm, then offered the bottle to Luke. Michael sniffed it before lathering it into his hair—it smelled like cherry blossoms. He grinned, washing his hair, watching Luke wash his. Luke rinsed his hair first, then reached over to give Michael a mohawk with the shampoo, leaning in to kiss him before letting Michael slide past him under the water.

By the time Michael had resurfaced from the water cascading down over him, smoothing his hair back over his head, Luke had moved on to washing his body. Michael did the same, as quickly as he could while still being thorough.

“Squeaky clean,” Michael said when he'd finished, looking at Luke expectantly; he could see Luke's eyelashes sticking together, water dripping from the end of his nose, and Michael reached out, taking hold of his arm and pulling him close again. Luke didn't resist this time, or make any further excuses—he allowed Michael to pull him in, their lips meeting and parting almost at the same moment. Michael's skin was slippery wet as Luke pressed against him, pushing him backward so Michael bumped into the wall. Luke pinned him there, their hips moving together. Michael whimpered softly as Luke's hands found their places on his body—one hand on the side of his neck, gently rubbing Michael's jaw with his thumb, the other hand on his ass, squeezing it just a little. Michael was a bit more forward—he left one hand on Luke's side, the other slipping between their bodies to push Luke back just a little.

Once Luke's hips were parted from his own, ignoring how much he missed the contact, he wrapped his hand around Luke's cock, stroking him immediately, but slowly. Luke sighed against Michael's cheek, licking his lower lip before kissing him again and moving his hand from Michael's ass to take hold of Michael's cock, too.

Michael hiccuped a gasp—he hadn't expected Luke to give in so quickly, but he was glad for it. Their lips met again as they jerked each other off, Luke's fist tight around him, Michael's just loose enough to be more of a tease than anything else. Luke moved his free hand up from Michael's neck, letting his palm splay out flat against the cool, tiled shower wall above Michael's shoulder. He let his forehead lean against Michael's as he looked down between their bodies, watching their hands move over each other. He licked his lip, bit his lipring—but Michael was nosing at him, trying to find Luke's lips for another kiss.

Luke finally managed to tear his eyes away from their hands, moving in unison now—that was always how it ended up with them, always perfectly in sync with each other—and kissed Michael again, hard. The steam from the shower was heating them up; Luke could feel his abdomen tensing up but he held himself back—he wanted this to last just a little bit longer. Michael jerked his hips forward into Luke's hand; Luke did the same in return, and Michael tightened his grip around him, dragging the pad of his thumb over the slit in Luke's dick. Luke moaned Michael's name into his mouth; he felt Michael grin in response.

“Come on, Luke,” Michael whispered, voice barely able to be heard over the rushing water around them, still beating down on Luke's back. “Are you close?”

Luke whimpered in response, then nodded, lowering his face to press into the crook of Michael's neck, tongue laving over his heated skin. Michael sped his hand up, coaxing Luke closer to climax each time he moved over him. Luke nodded again, mindlessly, meeting Michael's rhythm, hips rocking back and forth, almost forgetting to keep his hand working over Michael—Michael's thumb nudged the head of his cock again, and he broke, finally, coming against Michael's thigh with a sharp gasp.

Luke's hand stilled on Michael, but Michael let him take his time coming down, pressing a kiss to Luke's temple before Luke raised his head, meeting Michael's eyes. He began to move his hand again and Michael sighed, letting his weight rest fully against the wall as Luke jerked him off. Michael lifted his right arm to wrap his hand around Luke's wrist beside his head, where his hand was still resting against the wall. Luke was kissing Michael's neck, his jaw, down over his chest to kiss and lick his nipples briefly. Michael hummed at that; Luke felt the vibration from his chest and closed his lips around one of Michael's nipples, sucking hard as he squeezed his cock tighter, moving his hand quicker. Michael's hips stuttered forward into Luke's hand, back arching forward against Luke's mouth as he came, squeezing Luke's arm tight, riding it out with him. Michael let his head drop back against the wall with a faint _thunk_ , but he didn't even notice or mind that it might have hurt. Luke had straightened up and was kissing him again, his front flush against Michael's.

After another moment, Luke reached over to the faucet and turned off the water, leaving them shrouded only in steam. Michael shivered a little, the cold tiles a little too much now that the warmth of the water was gone.

“Cold?” Luke asked, and Michael nodded in response. Luke huffed a short laugh through his nose, pulling Michael off of the wall and out of the tub, choosing one of the towels left on the rack above the toilet and handing it to Michael, who took it and began drying himself. Luke grabbed another towel and did the same.

They both left their towels in a rumpled pile on the bathroom floor, silently making their way out into the bedroom again. Luke shut the bathroom light, then grabbed his sweatpants from where he'd left them on the floor, but Michael took them from his hand and threw them back, away, behind Luke.

“You don't need those,” he said—before yawning spectacularly.

Luke snickered, shaking his head. “You're going to pass out as soon as your head hits the pillow.”

“So?” Michael said, not letting Luke move away from him, instead tugging him closer to the bed by the wrist. He sat, moving back further onto the bed before lying down, but instead of joining him, Luke walked away.

“Hey,” Michael protested, scowling at him.

“I'll be right there,” Luke said, crossing over to Michael's suitcase, opening it and digging around, looking for something.

“What are you doing?” Michael asked, suppressing another yawn.

“Looking for...” Luke began, trailing off. He pushed most of Michael's clothes out of the bag onto the floor. “This.” He straightened up after a moment turning back to Michael, trying to hide whatever it was behind his back.

“What?” Michael said; the TV didn't provide enough light for him to see whatever Luke was holding.

In lieu of answering, Luke just crossed over to the bed again, his hands still behind his back.

“Wh—” Michael asked, before Luke, with no warning, jammed his Fennekin hat on his head. Michael laughed.

“Now you'll be warm. Fire Pokémon, right?” Luke said, and Michael could hear the smile in his voice even in the dark.

“That's not how it works,” Michael said, but he lowered himself back down against the pillows anyway, letting Luke pull the covers over both of them, their bodies pressed together, legs entwined. 

“It could be,” Luke whispered, as Michael yawned again. Luke pressed his face in to him, his nose against Michael's cheek, arms around him. “Go to sleep.”

“I'll fall asleep quicker if you sing me the Jigglypuff song,” Michael said, snickering a little but giving up his fight to try to stay awake.

“Seriously?” Luke asked.

“No fuckin' way,” Michael replied, laughing quietly. “You could never sing as good as Jigglypuff. Sorry not sorry.”

“Should I be offended? I'm offended,” Luke said, though he was more amused than actually put out.

“It's just the facts,” Michael said, but he sounded like he was half-asleep again.

“Goodnight, Michael,” Luke whispered.

Michael mumbled in response, squeezed his eyes shut, turning his body further into Luke.

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: [maybeillfindyouhere](http://maybeillfindyouhere.tumblr.com/) • Come say hi!
> 
> _Title from "The Edge of Tonight" by All Time Low._


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